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As she turned and walked away, the doors hissed closed behind her. Father remained, watching the map, the movement, the storm gathering between two giants of the Commonwealth. He smiled faintly, as he will let them fight or let them bleed. The Institute would be waiting when the dust settled.
Then the scene returned to Sanctuary.
The sky outside was beginning to dim, the golden light of late afternoon casting long shadows across the old wooden buildings and reconstructed concrete walls of the Minutemen's stronghold. Inside the Minutemen HQ—on the meeting room—tension ran like a live wire.
A large round table dominated the room, lined with terminals, maps, and stacks of intel reports. Screens mounted on the walls displayed patrol routes, scanner team deployment zones, and real-time surveillance feeds from across Minutemen territory. The atmosphere was charged—focused, wary, but ready. A war council in all but name.
Around the table sat the people Sico trusted most.
Preston Garvey was to his right, arms crossed, the brim of his battered hat tilted down in thought. Jenny stood beside him, her hands resting on the back of a chair, face set with her usual mix of grit and empathy. Across from them sat MacCready, his rifle slung lazily across his lap, though the look in his eyes was anything but casual. Robert and Mel leaned over a shared tablet, flipping through notes. Sturges was nearby, tapping away on a datapad even as he listened intently. Curie sat next to him, posture upright, her synthetic eyes scanning everyone's expressions.
Piper leaned back in her chair, notebook on her thigh, pen tapping absently. Sarah and Albert shared a look—veterans who didn't need to speak to understand one another. Hancock lit a cigarette, exhaling a thin stream of smoke, his casual posture belying the sharpness in his stare.
Connected via secure radio channels were Ronnie Shaw, patched in from the Castle, and Cait from Minutemen Plaza. Their voices crackled in on the overhead speakers, their holographic icons flickering on the screen above the map.
Sico stood at the head of the table. He wasn't wearing his armor—just a long-sleeved Minutemen jacket, sleeves rolled up, collar open. His face was serious, jaw tight. He looked around the room, meeting every pair of eyes in turn. Then he began.
"They came in five Vertibirds. Landed right outside Sanctuary's north gate."
The silence deepened, the only sound the faint hum of generators and distant birdsong.
"Paladin Danse was leading them," Sico continued. "Came under a white flag, more or less. He asked to speak. Not as an enemy. As a diplomat."
Mel frowned. "The Brotherhood doesn't do diplomacy unless they want something."
"Exactly," Sico said. He picked up a holotape from the table and rolled it between his fingers. "They wanted the synth scanner blueprints."
Everyone stirred at that. Even Hancock's eyebrows twitched.
"No way," MacCready muttered. "They actually asked for it?"
Jenny leaned in. "What did you say?"
Sico locked eyes with her. "I said no."
There was a pause—no surprise, just the weight of the moment sinking in.
"They offered terms," Sico went on. "Joint development. Limited deployment. Security protocols. Hell, they even hinted at an alliance. But I looked Danse in the eye and told him the truth: we bled for this tech. We lost people—good people—developing it. And we won't hand it over just because someone thinks they're entitled to it."
Ronnie's voice crackled through the radio. "Damn right."
Cait added, "And you didn't punch him in the mouth? Proud of your restraint."
A few chuckles rippled around the room, but they faded quickly.
"They didn't like being refused," Sico said. "Danse tried to stay calm, but I saw it in his face. That steel Brotherhood pride, cracking just a little. And before he left, he gave me a warning. Not an ultimatum—something quieter. Something worse. He said if we didn't share it, Elder Maxson would respond… accordingly."
"That's Brotherhood code for 'expect trouble,'" Sarah said.
Sturges looked up from his datapad. "You think they'll come back guns blazing?"
"No," Sico replied. "Not yet. That's not their way. First, they'll try to be sneaky. Intercept our convoys. Capture one of the scanner units. Maybe even hit a storage site. They'll probe our defenses. Try to see if they can take what they want without starting an open war."
"And when that fails?" Mel asked.
Sico's eyes narrowed. "Then we'll see the real Brotherhood."
Preston stepped forward, speaking quietly. "What's our next move?"
Sico tapped the holotable, zooming in on a map of the Commonwealth. Blue markers lit up at four different locations.
"We've dismantled the scanner lab and split the tech into four hidden sites. Each site is on rotating lockdown. Even if they take one, they'll get nothing useful. Only fragments. Not enough to replicate or reverse-engineer."
Mel nodded, voice calm but firm. "We've also initiated dummy signal protocols. Any scanner broadcasts from now on are layered with false telemetry. If they're intercepting us, all they'll see is noise."
"Security's been doubled at every transport route," Robert added. "And we've re-routed all scanner convoys through alternate paths, with decoys running ahead. Let them chase ghosts."
Piper leaned forward, frowning. "Do we have any idea how far the Brotherhood's willing to go?"
Sico looked at her. "Maxson doesn't like losing. He sees this scanner as a threat to their authority. And he sees us as a wildcard he can't control. That's a dangerous mix. He'll escalate if he thinks we're weak."
"He'll escalate anyway," Hancock said, exhaling smoke. "People like Maxson don't back down. They double down."
"And we still don't know where the Institute stands in all this," Jenny added. "They've been quiet. Too quiet."
There was a moment's pause. The mention of the Institute still chilled the room.
Sico nodded. "That's the other half of this. We don't know how they'll react. The scanner undermines their entire way of controlling the surface. For decades they've relied on infiltrators, on synths passing as humans. Now we can detect them. That terrifies them."
"They might try to play us against the Brotherhood," Sarah said. "Let us bleed each other dry."
"They might already be trying," Sturges murmured.
Sico nodded again. "We need to assume that. We need to be ready for manipulation, for false intel, for operatives slipping through our ranks. That's why the Scan Department is priority one from now on. Not just for identifying synths—but for identifying lies."
He looked around the room again. "I'm not asking you to panic. I'm asking you to prepare. If the Brotherhood comes for us, we stand our ground. If the Institute tries to outthink us, we outmaneuver them. We've come too far to be pushed around."
There was a murmur of agreement around the table, voices low but firm.
"Everyone has their orders," Sico said. "Mel, keep refining the scanner signal filters. Make them cleaner, tighter. Magnolia, work with Albert to run background checks on anyone new entering Minutemen territory. Piper, I want you digging—find out what the people are hearing. What the rumors are. Jenny, you're on logistics—prep the next phase of deployments. We move the tech again in three days, keep them guessing. Robert, Mel, MacCready—train up the new scanner teams. We'll need them ready to move on short notice. Sarah, Preston—prepare the soldiers for any possible invasion accros Minutemen territory."
"And us?" Ronnie asked over the radio.
Sico turned to the speaker. "Ronnie, reinforce the Castle. Quietly. Double the guard rotations, seal the tunnels. Cait, I want you keeping tabs on Plaza traffic—check manifests, search for any inconsistencies. You see something odd, you let me know before the damn sun sets."
"You got it," Cait replied.
"Consider it done," Ronnie added.
Sico exhaled, stepping back from the table, his hands on his hips. The weight of leadership pressed against him like armor—heavy, necessary.
"We didn't ask for this fight," he said, quieter now. "But we won't run from it, either. The Brotherhood, the Institute—they think the Commonwealth is theirs to control. That the rest of us should fall in line, or fall behind. But we're not the rest. We're the future."
A long silence followed, but no one looked away. No one wavered. Sico let the silence settle for a moment longer, the last words still hanging in the air like the final echoes of a war drum. Then he nodded once, firmly.
"Meeting adjourned."
Chairs scraped against the floor. A few people stood immediately—MacCready slinging his rifle back over his shoulder with a grunt, Mel and Robert gathering their tablet and datapads, Curie rising with her usual graceful efficiency. Preston gave Sico a steady nod before walking out, Jenny close behind. Piper lingered for a moment longer, scribbling one final note before tucking her pen behind her ear and heading toward the door.
The room began to empty in waves—Hancock flicked the last of his cigarette into an old coffee mug and ambled out with a shrug. Sarah and Albert exchanged another silent look before heading for the exit together, their footsteps slow, steady, like soldiers returning to the trenches. On the overhead screen, Ronnie's hologram fizzled out, her voice a curt farewell, and Cait's icon blinked before vanishing as well.
Soon, only Sico remained.
He leaned forward, palms resting on the edge of the table. The hum of the HQ was distant now, muffled by thick walls and the falling dusk. The room still smelled faintly of dust, coffee, and the ozone tang of electronics—scents he'd grown used to. The sort of place where strategy was born, where decisions meant survival. He exhaled slowly.
Then, the air changed.
A sudden hum. A pulse of energy.
A soft *whoomph* filled the room, and in the blink of an eye, a sharp blue light flared in the corner, near the door.
Sico's hand went instinctively to his sidearm—but he didn't draw. He knew this light.
It shimmered for a heartbeat, then solidified into a pillar of glowing energy, flickering like a vertical pool of water rippling in place. And from its center, a figure stepped forward.
Nora.
Her boots touched the floor, and the teleportation field behind her vanished with a low *crack* and a shimmer of air. She stood there, slightly breathless, strands of dark hair falling across her forehead. Her Institute suit was covered by a plain brown coat, and her expression was hard—tense. Not the usual calm or the warm sarcasm she carried when they were alone.
This was a different Nora.
Sico's eyes narrowed. "You picked a hell of a time to visit."
Nora nodded, stepping closer. "I had to come. There wasn't time for anything else. I just came from a council meeting at the Institute."
Sico folded his arms. "What did they say?"
"They're planning something," she said, not bothering with preamble. Her voice was steady, but there was an urgency underneath, a sharpness like a drawn blade. "Something big. They're going to push the Brotherhood and the Minutemen into a full-scale war."
Sico's jaw tightened. "They want us to kill each other."
Nora nodded grimly. "Yes. They're setting the trap right now. I heard them discussing it. Not just in passing, Sico—this is a full strategy. They've been gathering intel, tracking deployments, identifying pressure points. They know about the Brotherhood's pride. And they know about your refusal to hand over the scanner. They're going to manipulate both sides into thinking the other made the first move."
She stepped closer, lowering her voice. "They want to be the fishermen."
Sico frowned. "Fishermen?"
"You know. That old saying. When two whales fight, the fishermen win. The Institute wants to watch us clash—then walk in when we're bloodied and exhausted. They'll pick the bones clean. Take the scanner tech, wipe out whoever's left. Maybe even come out of the shadows publicly. They think it's time."
For a long moment, Sico didn't respond. He stared past Nora, at the table, the terminals, the dimming light beyond the windows. The wind outside rustled the trees gently, deceptively peaceful.
He finally spoke, low and steady. "How sure are you?"
"Certain," Nora said. "They're keeping it quiet—only the Directorate knows the full details. But I've seen the pieces. Operations labeled with fake names, field missions dressed up as research expeditions. They've already started staging false flag ops. Synths disguised as Brotherhood patrols. Others planted to provoke Minutemen convoys. Skirmishes staged to look like accidents. It's all part of the plan."
Sico clenched his fists slowly. "They're betting on chaos. That we won't see through the fog before it's too late."
"They're counting on it," she said. "They think your pride, Maxson's paranoia, and the pressure you're both under will be enough to spark a conflict neither of you can walk away from."
He shook his head, pacing slowly across the room. "So we're dancing on a knife's edge, and the Institute's playing conductor."
Nora watched him. "I wouldn't have come unless I believed it could still be stopped."
"Why now?" he asked. "Why risk coming here like this?"
She hesitated. "Because… I'm scared, Sico. Not for me. For Shaun. For what the Institute's turning into. They don't see people anymore. Just variables. Risks. Assets. You're not even the enemy to them—you're a tool they're trying to use without getting their hands dirty. That's what terrifies me the most."
Sico stopped pacing. He looked at her, really looked at her, and saw the truth in her eyes—the fear, the weight, the deep pull of maternal loyalty fighting a growing awareness of the rot inside the Institute.
"I don't know if I can change them from the inside," she admitted. "But I can keep feeding you what I learn. Give you a fighting chance."
He stepped forward and placed a hand gently on her shoulder. "You just did."
For a second, neither of them spoke. The hum of monitors filled the silence.
Then Sico turned back to the table, reactivating the map. His fingers danced over the console, pulling up locations, reports, scanner deployments, Brotherhood movement logs, and more. The table lit up with data.
"They want a war?" he muttered. "We'll give them a mystery instead. We'll vanish, we'll confuse, we'll make them think we're fractured or fighting when we're actually consolidating. We'll turn their plan inside out."
He tapped a few icons. "First thing—no more standard convoy routes. From now on, no pattern lasts more than a day. Mel's decoys are good, but I want more randomness. Make them chase shadows."
He glanced at Nora. "Can you delay them?"
She nodded. "Maybe. I'll drop false intelligence in their channels—make them think the Brotherhood's planning something first. Or that you're moving the scanner to the western marshes. That'll keep their eyes off the real targets."
Sico gave her a small, tired smile. "Then it's a game of chess. And this time, we're not the pawns."
He turned back to the map, a fire kindling in his chest.
"We protect the scanner. We protect our people. But more than that—we keep our eyes open. We don't give them the war they want."
Nora stepped beside him, her voice quieter now. "And if it comes anyway?"
Sico's voice dropped, steel in his tone.
"Then we fight. Not because we want to. But because we must. And when we do… we make sure they regret ever thinking the Minutemen were weak."
Outside, the sun finally dipped beneath the horizon. Sanctuary was bathed in twilight. Quiet, but ready. Always ready.
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• Name: Sico
• Stats :
S: 8,44
P: 7,44
E: 8,44
C: 8,44
I: 9,44
A: 7,45
L: 7
• Skills: advance Mechanic, Science, and Shooting skills, intermediate Medical, Hand to Hand Combat, Lockpicking, Hacking, Persuasion, and Drawing Skills
• Inventory: 53.280 caps, 10mm Pistol, 1500 10mm rounds, 22 mole rats meat, 17 mole rats teeth, 1 fragmentation grenade, 6 stimpak, 1 rad x, 6 fusion core, computer blueprint, modern TV blueprint, camera recorder blueprint, 1 set of combat armor, Automatic Assault Rifle, 1.500 5.56mm rounds, power armor T51 blueprint, Electric Motorcycle blueprint, T-45 power armor, Minigun, 1.000 5mm rounds, Cryolator, 200 cryo cell, Machine Gun Turret Mk1 blueprint, electric car blueprint, Kellogg gun, Righteous Authority, Ashmaker, Furious Power Fist, Full set combat armor blueprint, M240 7.62mm machine guns blueprint, Automatic Assault Rifle blueprint, and Humvee blueprint.
• Active Quest:-